Track is my field: Mark Cullen's international track and field blog featuring storytelling, commentary, and predictions and event analyses for the Olympics and World Championships. I'm writing from the 2017 World Championships in London. I'm active on twitter: @trackerati

Sunday, July 10, 2016

*It’s a given that the
Hayward Field crowd response to an Oregon athlete is amplified by the athlete’s
Duckness. I had already made a note to write about the crowd’s roar in Devon
Allen’s win in the third semi-final of the men’s 110m high hurdles. Then he won
the entire event.

Heard anything like that
recently? Well, yes – it was much the same with Ducks Jenna Prandini, Ariana
Washington, Deajah Stevens, and Galen Rupp all Saturday afternoon.

Then 41-year-old Bernard
Lagat won the men’s 5,000m.

In defiance of aging, Lagat
finished off his astonishing 5,000m victory with a 52.82 final lap. Saturday’s
roar joins legendary Hayward Field crowd responses to the men’s 2008 800m - when
three runners training in Oregon made the Olympic team - and Alan Webb’s 3:53.3
national high school record in the mile in the 2001 Prefontaine Classic.

Oh, yes - there was quite a
response several decades ago. Also the men’s 5,000m.

It may well have been 1972
when we last heard an Olympic Trials roar like this.

Lagat, who did not want to end
his Hayward Field career on a down-note, was worried after dropping out of both
the Olympic Trials 10,000m and this year’s Prefontaine Classic 5,000m. But he
kept perspective about the meaning of Saturday’s win to himself and his family.

He wanted “… to win in front
of my kids, who had been telling me we had to go. My daughter tells me, ‘Daddy,
I want to go back to the Olympics so I can watch gymnastics.’”

-Eric Jenkins
missed the Olympic team by .06 in the men’s 5,000m. Try timing six
one-hundredths by hand on a stopwatch.

-Aries Merritt and
possibly the greatest story of the Olympics: he missed the team by an agonizing
1/100th in the men’s hurdles. The kidney transplant patient - who
won bronze at the 2015 Beijing World Championships 4 days before his transplant
- was the picture of grace in post-race interviews.

*Chris Lotsbom of Race Results Weekly asked this trenchant
question in a twitter post several nights ago: why do Hayward Field fans clap
and cheer for athletes who have failed drug tests? Granted, they have served
their time in suspensions, but this does not absolve them of their role in
cheating. When a LaShawn Merritt or Justin Gatlin wins, my small protest is
that I just don’t clap. Sound ineffective? What if we all didn’t clap and
cheer? The silence would be deafening – and eloquent.

*Meanwhile, speaking of
clapping, I have a peeve of my own: please, no rhythmic clapping or victory
cheers when athletes are in their blocks. Do the best fans in the world really
need to be told this?

*Galen Rupp showed up
bedecked in aerodynamic tape for Saturday’s 5,000m race. If it does, as he
claims, reduce air drag by up to 2%, it begs the question of when the line is
crossed between using technology for an ethical advantage and when technology
helps too much. Swimming had to address this question when full-body suits (based
in more buoyant polyurethane material) were banned in 2010 after a wholesale rewriting
of the record book once these suits were introduced.

*Special note to Olympic
Trials hurdles champion Devon Allen:

Dude, it’s time to stop
playing football.

The universe has been telling you this for some time
now. You’re the Olympic Trials champion
and in the thick of a worldwide discussion of who the Olympic hurdle medalists
will be.

It began the night of the 3rd with a fireworks
display at Autzen Stadium, one the entire city heard at 10:30 – no one could
escape it.

Including athletes trying to sleep the night before their
events.

So, not a great start to a great 4th of July in
Eugene.

The day itself dawned cool, sunny, spectacular – truly not a
cloud in the sky.

Matthew Knight Arena on the 4th of July

One option visitors have is to stay in the dormitories at
the University of Oregon. Deal of a lifetime. $99.00 a day - including three
meals - when motels across the street are going for $300-500 a night.

This is a throwback for me as I lived in these same
dormitories in the early ‘70s when I was an undergraduate here. I lived in
Dyment – rhymes with cement – and how many people can claim they lived in a dorm
so aptly named for undergraduate life?

It’s no coincidence that Animal House was filmed on this campus
several years later. I’ll move on so as to protect the guilty.

An interesting aspect of dormitory life this time is that
one of the entry gates to Hayward Field is half a block away. I rise every
morning to the sight of growing lines of fans waiting to go through security,
and with protective fences, concrete blocks, federal marshals, and
bomb-sniffing dogs, we are reminded at every turn that track and field heaven
is part of the real world.

Security Force with Dog

I look forward to breakfast every morning, a place where new
friends are made and old are renewed. We discuss upcoming events and rehash
yesterday’s controversies. On this holiday morning I sit with newer friends,
ones I’ve gotten to know since returning to writing and starting my blog three
years ago. We have an animated discussion about the men’s long jump and the
qualifying process for the Olympics; we leave having clarified what we don’t
know.

One of the characteristics of an event such as the Trials is
what goes on beyond the track. A writer’s life can be pretty constrained during
an event like this. In my first three days here, my life took place in a
three-block radius: from my dorm to Hayward Field in one direction and to the
dining hall in the other. Not a bad radius when you think of it.

The late holiday start times at the track make possible a
number of options for visitors, and the Track and Field Writers of America (TAFWA)
hosts a morning social at the self-styled unofficial social center of the
Trials, the Wild Duck restaurant. First I speak with several of the eminent
LetsRun.com crew and finally I meet Steve Soprano, their mysterious “employee
1.1,” who has been so good to me with linking to my articles on their heavily
trafficked front page. I sit with Cheryl Treworgy, who as Cheryl Bridges set
the world marathon record of 2:49:40 in the 1971 Culver City marathon and
became the first woman ever under 2:50.

Treworgy has a very successful photography business called
PrettySporty; she is a familiar face at sporting events around the country,
including many beyond track and field. She is immensely proud of her two daughters
and we speak for some time about daughter Maggie’s service work in Africa.
Cheryl and I are teachers, and we have much to discuss about service, purpose,
and the magic of reaching a child. We also speak about her daughter, Shalane,
who, like her mother, runs a fair marathon, and will in Rio.

Next stop is the Caspian restaurant for lunch with friends.
The Caspian is a couple of storefronts down from the Duck Bookstore on the west
side of campus. It’s my favorite restaurant in Eugene; there is something for
everyone. While it focuses on Mediterranean food, it has an expansive menu that
will keep even the most enthusiastic carnivores satisfied. Best of all for
writing late, it’s open until 2:25am on weekends and 11:45pm on weeknights.

It’s
here I met Curtis Beach’s parents the night he waved Ashton Eaton home to a
world record in 2012. I told them it’s one of the greatest acts of
sportsmanship I’ve ever seen.

To the stadium after lunch and a meeting with my longtime
friend, Carol Coram, who sits on the Jury of Appeals. I always wish Carol an
uneventful day… and then there was the women’s 800m. I tried.

Enough for One Day

John Nunn won the Olympic Trials 20k race in Salem last
Thursday; I interviewed him there twice, once one-on-one and the other as part
of the group interview after the awards ceremony on the Capitol steps. Later
that evening in Eugene, I was at the campus alumni center to pick up my
accreditation and was directed to sit in a specific chair.

I look at the man next to me: “Hi, John.”

At the appeals tent today, two men sit down to discuss the
appeals process; one is an athlete liaison and advocate.

“Hi, John,” I say once more. “We can’t go on meeting like this.”

We walk out together and agree it’s time for me to do an
article about him, the universe having spoken rather clearly on this matter.

Olympian John Nunn with that stalkerish trackerati guy. No, no - Nunn's on the right!

The women’s steeplechase rounds are first up on the track, followed by the men’s. Next are the men’s 5k heats, and this sequence causes me
some confusion. After 5 steeplechase heats I keep expecting the 5,000m runners
to jump over something.

I have an idea about how to approach the 4th of
July interviews with the athletes; it’s time to have some fun. I ask athletes
who have advanced to the next round or who have just made the Olympic team,
“So, how’s your 4th of July going so far?”

Bridget Franek, who had just won her steeplechase heat:
“Going pretty well so far, I’d say! Came with my nice 4th of July
glasses and hat so I was ready to go and then that happened (winning her heat),
so it’s a good one!”

Shalaya Kipp, who advanced to the steeplechase finals: “You
know, it’s really great! It’s a really good 4th of July.”

Clayton Murphy, who won the 800m with a Wottle-esque kick: “I
told Boris: I’d love to be on a boat right now and having hamburgers and
grilling out with the family, but running the Olympic Trials on the 4th
of July is cool. So I’d say the 4th of July is going pretty well. A
boat does sound nice and floating down the river on the 4th of July
- but I think this is pretty good, this is better.”

800m Olympian Clayton Murphy

Boris Berian, who made the Olympic team in 2nd
behind Murphy: “I’ll save the boat – that is definitely a fun thing to do –
I’ll save that for later. I’m just proud to be an Olympian now.”

More smilin' Olympians! Murphy - Berian - Jock

Charles Jock, third member of the 800m squad, turns to Berian and says, “Well, I think you’ve still got some time to go floating down
the river!”

800m Olympian Charles Jock

Chrishuna Williams: When I ask the question, the 800m third-placer
grabs the microphone and says, “I’ll answer that!”

Williams and Coach Chris Johnson

“As soon as I crossed the line I saw that my name, Chrishuna
Williams, had the 3rd position, and just to represent the red,
white, and blue and have USA across my chest on the 4th of July –
I’m very ecstatic!”

Kate Grace, Ajee Wilson, Chrishuna Williams - US 800m Olympic Team

The fun in this question is that it was unexpected. When I asked it in both 800m press
conferences, the athletes cracked up laughing each time. They are so used to
similar questions, race after race, year after year. The grace of Allyson Felix,
for example, is how she makes it appear she’s answering each question for the
first time.

No one has as much grace as Kate.

I return to the stadium and bid farewell to my press row neighbor, Caitlyn Pilkington, a rising star who is now with Women's Running Magazine. She has covered the first half of the Trials and her publisher will be here for the second. We've made a nice connection and I know this is the first time we'll say farewell but by no means the last.

Sun sets on a dazzling 4th of July at Hayward Field

I remain in the stadium and write until 9:30 or so. The remarkable
facilities crew is raising the hammer throw cage. It’s not hyperbole to say
their work is never done.

Raising of the Hammer Barn

It’s time for dinner and I head for the Wild Duck. Note that I started and ended my day at the Wild Duck. Can the term ‘ubiquitous’ apply to a single business? It seems as if the Wild Duck is everywhere, even though it’s in one place.

I sit with my RunBlogRun
editor and publisher, Larry Eder, who is a connector if ever there was one. I
have told his son that my goal is to find a single person in track and field
Larry does not know. To my left is
the gifted writer, Dave Hunter, from whom I learn more about our craft every
time I read his work.

I am introduced to the man across from me and in the
enthusiastic noise of the late evening I misunderstand his name. He looks very
familiar, but the name I hear does not match my memory. I spend a considerable
amount of time thinking I’m speaking with a famous writer. It takes a while,
but finally I ask him to repeat his last name.

“Ahhhhhh,” I say. “Virgin. You are Craig Virgin.”

The two-time World cross country champion nods.

We’re joined by Bobby Hodge, he of the epic Greater Boston
Track Club team of the late ‘70s. Across the street in a motel meeting room I
encountered his voluble coach, Billy Squires, the day before the men’s Olympic
Trials marathon trials race in 1976. Squires and I hit it off and he coached me
by mail; we stayed in touch for a good 15 years. I sought him out in
Massachusetts a couple of summers ago, wanting to complete our story.

As I started running in Bill Bowerman’s beginning running
class in the fall of ’71, I have long wondered if anyone else has been coached
by both.

Virgin peels off, then Hodge - it’s time to bring this 4th to a close. I realize I didn’t see any fireworks this year, but then I remember the women’s 800m.

Saturday, July 9, 2016

It’s the last day of the 1972
US Men’s Olympic Track and Field Trials.

The organizers at Eugene’s legendary
Hayward Field were no fools. They scheduled the men’s 5,000m race as the last
event of the 8-day program.

It featured Steve
Prefontaine, the young man whom Sports Illustrated named, while he was still in
high school, “America’s Distance Prodigy,” and George Young, the venerable
veteran, the three-time Olympian trying to make his 4th Olympic team.

In an epic race that would
see both men break the American Record, Prefontaine and Young went at it, lap
by excruciating lap, and the issue was in doubt until the 9th
circuit, when Prefontaine edged ahead, inexorably, and led Young to the finish.

Prefontaine (13:22.8) and Young (13:29.4) both broke Pre's American record of 13:29.6.

It would be a cliché to say
that the crowd went wild.

But it did.

The sound of that last lap
lives with me still. The roar was deafening as Prefontaine approached the
finish stripe, but the sound when he crossed it is unlike any I have heard
before or since.

If there’s one word I associate
with that day, it’s “spectacle.”

The spectacle of Gerry
Lindgren bounding from the stands with his memorable “Stop Pre” t-shirts, a
lasting symbol of the Sparrow’s impish sense of humor.

The spectacle of the race
itself, of seeing this prodigy realize the next stage of his potential.

The spectacle of what
followed.

A lengthy victory lap, an
ovation sustained, an achievement shared. What was so appealing about this young
man was his generosity - his willingness to share his joy and, indeed, his
triumph.

The celebration continued
well into the evening, though it became more personal in nature. It shifted to
an area on the east side of Hayward Field, where temporary bleachers had been
erected to accommodate the overflow crowds. There a media platform had been
built.

On it, young Mr. Prefontaine held court.

The television lights were
blinding, the camera bulbs kept flashing, and person after person, kid after
kid, asked something of him.

Long after the friends I had
watched the race with decided their evening was over, I knew mine wasn’t finished.

For the previous nine months
I had embarked upon a running career, such as it was, of my own. I had started
running in Bill Bowerman’s beginning jogging class in the fall of 1971, a week
after Bowerman had been named head coach of the US Olympic track and field team.

When you run on the track
inhabited by the likes of these memorable Ducks, no matter how slowly in
comparison, you do get to know them. One of them, Coach Pat Tyson of the Mead
and now Gonzaga University cross country programs, remains a friend to this day.

When it came to young Mr.
Prefontaine, we saw each other 4 or 5 times a week during the first year I ran.
I was from the wilds of Western Massachusetts and knew little of him when I
began running. He seemed to like the
fact that I never got caught up in the myth of Pre, and that we used each
other’s first names was a bond of its own.

That I saw him as a new
compatriot, special in terms of his ability but otherwise in many ways like
everyone else, created the framework of our passing relationship, and formed the
basis of what we Yankees call a 'nodding acquaintance.'

Indeed, the one time, the
only time, I asked him for an autograph - not for me but for the 8-year-old son of
a friend I had in tow - he grew quite impatient with me. It took me awhile to
realize I had violated the boundary. It was the only time in his presence I had
bought into the mythic “Pre.”

Fortunately, he forgave me.

So, as he sat surrounded by
worshipping kids and an adoring, and yes, fawning press, I wanted to watch the
rest of the spectacle.

I made my way up the
temporary bleachers, sat in the corner closest to him, and watched. Watched for
over an hour as Steve sat there with the patience of a saint, even though he
wasn’t one, and did not claim to be.

Every now and then he’d cock
his head, look up at me and wonder what on earth I was doing there.

Come to think of it, for
someone known for his strong opinions and sometimes colorful language, “what on
earth” were probably not the words he was thinking.

Yet he was curious,
inquisitive, clearly wondering.

It got dark.

Fortunately, the scoreboard
operator had a sense of the moment and didn’t turn off the lights. The darker
it got, the more clearly etched into the evening sky was Prefontaine’s new
American Record.

I can see it today, just as
clearly, more than half a lifetime later.

Finally, there were only a
couple of families left, little kids waiting for their moment of magic. I scurried
up the rickety bleachers, down to the track, and waited while he completed his
hero’s duties.

He smiled in recognition,
still with that quizzical look.

* * *

The kids are gone now, and
it’s just the two of us with his drug tester in attendance. We exchange
greetings and I offer my congratulations. I’m delighted to sense his
receptivity, in spite of how long his day has been.

He actually has a few moments
left, for me.

Well, I say, I’ve watched
this spectacle unfold this afternoon, and now this evening.

He nods.

I’ve seen many people
approach you and ask for many things.

He nods, as if to say this is
not news.

An autograph, a photograph,
an interview, a moment, even, with you.

Yes.

But Steve, I say, for all
these people have asked, and all you’ve given in return - one thing has not
been said today.

One thing is missing.

What’s that?

Thank you.

He clutches my forearm with
both hands.

He will not let go.

Tears come to his eyes.

We both just stand there, at
ease in the moment.

When he can speak, I wish him
success in the Olympics, and he wishes me good luck in the summer all-comers
meets.

Off he scampers across the
track and onto the infield. Before he vanishes into the enveloping darkness, he
turns and gives me a huge, full-body wave.

I wave back.

Off he jogs into the
underbelly of the now gloomy West Grandstand and to his appointment with
destiny in Munich.

Apparently the men’s
steeplechasers did not wish to be upstaged by Thursday’s dramatic women’s
steeplechase final. The men’s race mirrored the women’s: similar tactics,
similar pacing, similar last lap sprints – and similar bumps and falls over the
crucial last water jump.

Evan Jager was his usual
masterful pacing and tactical self. He took the lead earlier than he had
planned and tightened the tourniquet on this accomplished field by running the
last 4 laps in 64-62-62-62. That’s world class and no one could stay with him.
The American record holder finished in 8:22.48, won his fifth consecutive US
title, and made his second Olympic team.

NCAA champ Mason Ferlic led
the pack through the first kilometer in a slow 2:58.04 – warmup pace for this
deep and talented field. Then Jager took over.

Friday, July 8, 2016

Emma Coburn and the deepest field in US history gave Hayward Field fans what they came for: a fast, dramatic, and compelling Olympic Trials race. Halfway through it was no surprise that behind Coburn, nine still had a chance to make the Olympic team.

“I was just trying to stay relaxed, and in a steeplechase especially there’s so much risk and drama with the barriers, so I was just trying to stay relaxed and confident,” said Coburn, who won in 9:17.48 and is now US steeplechase champion for the fifth time.

Monday, July 4, 2016

Olympic Champion Greg
Rutherford has spent a lot of time since the London Olympics defending the long
jump, an event which clearly has been in a slump since he struck gold in 2012.

Indeed, going into Sunday’s
US Olympic Trials finals, it seemed as if the entire track and field universe
was focused on the day’s other finals, especially the men’s and women’s 100m
dashes. If not those, then Ashton
Eaton in the decathlon. If not Mr. Eaton, then Allyson Felix and LaShawn
Merritt in the 400m. If not the veterans, how about teenage sensation Vashti
Cunningham – the World Indoor champion – in the high jump?

While pre-meet anticipation
of those events was justly rewarded, no event was more compelling – or deeper –
or more riveting - than the overlooked men’s long jump.

“Today's men's long jump competition
was the greatest all-conditions (including wind-aided marks) in history with
seven men over 27 feet,” said USATF. That ought to knock this event out of its
doldrums.Nine men jumped over 8 meters (26’3”) and two over 28 ft.

Jeffery Henderson won the jump-fest
at 28’ 2 ¼”, a scant half inch ahead of Olympic teammate Jarrion Lawson. “I put it all
out there on the first jump and hit the board,” said Lawson. “I’m really happy
to get the 28-foot barrier with a legal wind.”

Henderson was jumping in his sprint spikes as he left his jumping
spikes at home. “I left my spikes at home by accident,” he said. “It worked out
– I still made the team and I got first. I’m glad that I won and got a good
mark out there.”

Will Claye and Marquis Dendy both jumped
27’ 7 ½” to tie for third, with Claye having the tie-breaking longer second
jump.

So why does Dendy go to the Olympics
but Claye does not?

Most unfortunately for Claye, all of
his marks were wind-aided on a blustery day in Eugene, and since he didn’t have
a legal qualifying jump in any other competitions coming into the meet, he will
not make the trip to Rio in the long jump. He missed Rio by a centimeter, as
his legal best of 8.14m just missed the 8.15 (26’9”) Olympic standard.

The triple may well be another matter.
“This has made me more hungry,” said
Claye. “I went out here and gave it my all but I didn’t have the “A” standard,
so this has given me motivation for the triple jump.”

Meanwhile, Dendy, who had a legal
qualifying mark in the 3rd round, becomes the third member of the
Olympic Team. However, a re-injuring of his pesky ankle on his subsequent jump puts
his status for Rio in considerable jeopardy.

Meanwhile, Sunday’s Ironman award goes
not to Ashton Eaton but to Jarrion Lawson, the NCAA triple champion at
100m/200m/long jump. Lawson started his afternoon by sprinting the 100m
semi-final in 10.01 and earning a spot in the final. Then he took four jumps
until he was satisfied that his fourth-round 28’ 1 ¾” would stand up for
landing him on the Olympic team, which it did. (Not incidentally, as it was not
wind-aided, this jump is the longest legal jump in the world this year.) No
sooner was the long jump over than Lawson found himself in the starting blocks
of the 100m final, where he would finish 7th in 10.07.

Ashton, step aside.

“I’m ecstatic,” said Lawson. “This is
what I’ve been working for since 8th grade.”

In what is surely the
understatement of the day, Henderson concluded by saying, “The competition was
stacked.”

And as for Rutherford?

“I know he’ll be surprised to
see the results. This competition will probably go down in history.”

Saturday, July 2, 2016

Molly Huddle took the lead on
the opening step of the women’s Olympic Trials 10,000m race and never
relinquished it - not even an inch.

“You don’t want to risk
anything at the Olympic Trials by trying to run a fast time,” said Huddle, “so I just tried to keep it as relaxed as I
could until the last mile and still stay out of trouble.”

Instead, Huddle was trouble
for everyone else.

An Olympic Trials schedule
which models that of the Olympic Games - today’s race started at 11:04am - gave
the contestants challenging conditions in heat which is sure to be worse in
Rio.

Huddle ran to burn off the
competition and remarkable negative splits of 16:09/15:33 more than
accomplished that mission. Her final time was 31:41.62, with Beijing 10k bronze
medalist Emily Infeld second in 31:46.09 and Nike’s Marielle Hall third in
31:54.77.

Kellyn Taylor was a distant 4th
in 32:11.30, and with 1200m to go, Olympic team membership was never really in
doubt. The only question was the order.

Friday, July 1, 2016

The United States men’s shot
put entered a new era today. With only one major meet medalist among today’s
Olympic team qualifiers, the podium took on a surprisingly youthful look.

Darrell Hill served notice
that he would come into a meet as underdog for the last time when he led after
the first round with his 20.93m/68’ 8’. Heretofore, Hill’s highest major meet
finish was 2nd at the 2015 NCAA Championships. Hill crashed the 70’
barrier for the first time with a massive second-round PR of 21.63/70’ 11 ¾”,
and demolished his previous best by over one and a half feet.

Not to be outdone, Ryan
Crouser - native Oregonian and member of the legendary throwing family - stepped
up next and showed that youth would indeed be served. His explosive 22.11m/72’
6 ½” PR would stand to win the meet.

Scorcher

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@Trackerati

I'm active on Twitter every evening at Worlds. I'm live-tweeting the throws for the Throwholics website, but will chime in with other updates. I'll also post a daily piece here, whether a summary of events or a reflection on a single aspect of these championships.